#decoder 1984

[slayerbuffy]

Decoder 1984 | dir. Muscha

[jaimelannister]

Information is like a bank. Our job is to rob the bank.

DECODER (1984) dir. Muscha

[creepynostalgy]

Christiane Felscherinow in Decoder (1984)

[thegothicalice]

I absolutely love your style and was wondering as a cinemaphile what obscure, off the wall horror movies would you suggest for the spooky season?

Uhhhh how about various levels of obscure from the 80s and 90s? (Not a complete lists because I’ve seen literally thousands of films and forget half of what I watch and use Letterboxd to keep track)

1999– Idle Hands, Don’t Look Under the Bed, Bats, Ravenous, In Dreams, Lighthouse, Stir of Echos, Audition, Kolobos

1998—The Last Broadcast, Devil in the Flesh, Whispering Corridors, Urban Legend, Shadowbuilder, The Eternal, The Quiet Family, Strangeland, Deep Rising, The Wisdom of Crocodiles, Tomie

1997– The Relic, The Ugly, Event Horizon, Cure, Wax Mask, Snow White: A Tale of Terror, Quicksilver Highway, Office Killer, The Night Flier

1996– From Dusk til Dawn, Little Witches, Uncle Sam, The Frighteners, The Dentist, Karmina, Thesis, Tromeo & Juliet,

1995– Blood & Donuts, Screamers, Tales from the Hood, The Demolitionist, Mushrooms, The Girl With the Hungry Eyes, The Day of the Beast, Serpent’s Lair, Rumpelstiltskin, Mute Witness, Evil Ed, Project: Metalbeast, Habit, The Addiction, Tales From the Crypt: Demon Knight, Lord of Illusions

1994– Tammy & the T Rex, In the Mouth of Madness, Lurking Fear, Cemetery Man, Death Machine, Brainscan, Nadja

1993– Love Bites, Doppelgänger, Necronomicon, Body Bags, Ed & His Dead Mother, Dark Waters, Skinner, Jack Be Nimble, Ticks, Carnosaur, The Temp

1992– Death Becomes Her, The Vagrant, Tale of a Vampire, The Unnameable II, Innocent Blood, Dr Giggles, Auntie Lee’s Meat Pies, Aswang, Sleepwalkers, Netherworld, Split Second

1991– The Resurrected, The Boneyard, Body Parts, Popcorn, Subspecies, There’s Nothing Out There, Highway to Hell, The Runestone, Cast a Deadly Spell, Children of the Night

1990– Frankenhooker, Fear, Nightbreed, Lisa, Mom, Grim Prairie Tales, Shakma, Pale Blood, Baby Blood, Mirror Mirror, Hardware, Meridian, Def by Temptation, The Vampire Family, Reflecting Skin, Demonia

1989– Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat, Nightlife, I Madman, Dr. Caligari, The Black Cat, Paganini Horror, Phantom of the Mall: Eric’s Revenge, The Dead Pit, The Phantom of the Opera, Dead Calm, Intruder, The House of Usher

1988– Paperhouse, Spider Labyrinth, Spell Caster, Sorority Babes in the Slime-Bowl-O-Rama, Cellar Dweller, Pin, 976-EVIL, Brain Damage, Rejuvenatrix, Blood Relations, Party Line, The Unnamable, The Wicked

1987– Psychos in Love, Blood Rage, The Caller, Stagefright, Graveyard Shift, American Gothic, Street Trash, From a Whisper to a Scream, Blood Diner

1986– Spookies, Poison for the Fairies, Vamp, Gothic, Deadtime Stories, TerrorVision, Witchboard, Trick or Treat

1985– The Doctor and the Devils, Phenomena, The Stuff

1984– Decoder, The Company of Wolves, Monster Dog, Sole Survivor, Special Effects

1983– The Lift, Wilczyca (She Wolf), Eyes of Fire, House of Long Shadows, The Hunger, Angst, Curtains, Blood Beat, Mortuary, The Keep

1982– Ferat Vampire, Next of Kin, The Sender, Tenebre, One Dark Night, The Living Dead Girl, Superstition, Alone in the Dark, Parasite

1981– The Black Cat, Fear No Evil, Dead & Buried, Possession, Night School, The Monster Club, Allison’s Birthday, Frightmare, Ghost Story, The Funhouse, The Pit, Evilspeak, Strange Behavior, The Nesting

1980– Macabre, Fade to Black, The Ninth Configuration, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

These are all just what I’ve recorded on my personal Letterboxd since I started it in April of 2017, I’ve seen plenty more but tried to just pick possibly less-known stuff, some bad and some good.

[goryhorroor]

What are some underrated horror films? I have watched all the popular ones and need more! Thanks!

mentally prepare yourself because im ready to give a gumbo list (this has been sitting in my inbox because i had to ask all my friends and this is the list we came up with):

curse of the demon (1957) the serpent and the rainbow (1988) paranoiac (1963) the old dark house (1932) countess dracula (1971) golem (1920) haxan (1968) island of lost souls (1932) mad love (1935) mill of the stone women (1960) the walking dead (1936) the ghoul (1933) tourist trap (1979) the seventh victim (1943) ganja & hess (1973) dead of night (1945) a bay of blood (1971) let's scare jessica to death (1971) alice sweet alice (1976) the deadly spawn (1983) the brain that wouldn't die (1962) all about evil (2010) black roses (1988) the baby (1973) parents (1989) a blade in the dark (1983) blood lake (1987) solo survivor (1984) lemora: a child's tale of supernatural (1973) eyes of fire (1983) epitaph (2007) nightmare city (1980) slugs (1988) death smiles on a murderer (1973) intruder (1989) short night of glass dolls (1971) the children (2008) alone in the dark (1982) end of the line (2007) the queen of spades (1949) the housemaid (1960) tormented (1960) captain clegg (1962) the long hair of death (1964) dark age (1987) the crawling eye (1958) the kindred (1987) the gorgon (1964) wicked city (1987) baba yaga (1973) 976-evil (1988) bliss (2019) decoder (1984) amer (2009) the visitor (1979) day of the animals (1977) leptirica (1973) planet of the vampires (1965) lips of blood (1975) berberian sound studio (2012) a wounded fawn (2022) matango (1963) the mansion of madness (1973) the killing kind (1973) symptoms (1974) morgiana (1972) whispering corridors (1998) dead end (2003) infested (2023) (this just came out but im adding it) triangle (2009) the premonition (1976) you'll like my mother (1972) the mafu cage (1978) white of the eye (1987) mister designer (1987) alison's birthday (1981) the suckling (1990) graveyard shift (1987) messiah of evil (1987) out of the dark (1988) seven footprints to satan (1929) burn witch burn (1962) the damned (1962) pin (1988) horrors of malformed men (1969) mr vampire (1985) the vampire doll (1970) contracted (2013) impetigore (2019) eyeball (1975) malatestas carnival of blood (1973) the witch who came from the sea (1976) i drink your blood (1970) nothing underneath (1985) sauna (2008) seance (2000) come true (2020) the last winter (2006) night tide (1961) the brain (1988) dementia (1955) don't go to sleep (1982) otogirisou (2001) reincarnation (2005) mutant (1984) spookies (1986) shock waves (1977) bloody hell (2020) the den (2013) wer (2013) olivia (1983) enigma (1987) graverobbers (1988) manhattan baby (1982) evil in the woods (1986) death bed: the bed that eats (1977) cathy's curse (1977) creatures from the abyss (1994) the dorm that dripped blood (1982) the witching (1993) madman (1981) vampire's embrace (1991) blood beat (1983) the alien factor (1978) savage weekend (1979) blood sisters (1987) deadly love (1987) playroom (1990) die screaming marianne (1971) pledge night (1990) night train to terror (1985) the devonsville terror (1983) ghostkeeper (1981) special effects (1984) blood feast (163) the child (1977) godmonster of indian flats (1973) blood rage (1980) the unborn (1991) screamtime (1983) the outing (1987) the being (1983) silent madness (1984) lurkers (1988) forver evil (1987) squirm (1976) death screams (1982) jack-o (1995) haunts (1976) a night to dismember (1983) creaturealm: demons wake (1998) the curse (1987) daddy's deadly darling (1973) nightwing (1979) the laughing dead (1989) the severed arm (1973) the orphan (1979) not like us (1995) prime evil (1988) the monstrosity (1987) dark ride (2006) antibirth (2016) iced (1988) the soultangler (1987) twisted nightmare (1987) puffball (2007) biohazard (1985) cameron's closet (1988) beast from haunted cave (1959) the she-creature (1956)

[talesfromthecrypts]

FAVORITE FIRST WATCHES FOR APRIL

tagged by @mifunebooty to post favorite first watches last month :D

Sinners (2025)

sex, lies, and videotape (1989)

The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue (1974)

Dead Man (1995)

Decoder (1984)

Prey for Rock & Roll (2003)

tagging @thesoldiersminute, @turturros, @anthonysperkins, @pennywises

[thedevils1971]

decoder (1984) dir. muscha

[dare-g]

Decoder (1984)

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

it’s been well over a year since i posted my writing in the ahs fandom. and, after a bit of searching the tags, i realized that the activity for michael langdon (in particular) has drastically decreased since i was last here

that being said, i have a couple stories that i never got around to finishing, as well as two series i left on hiatus. i, for sure, want to finish the series but let me know which one-shots you’re interested in. i would prefer to create stories that others are going to read and not just me

p.s. check out my other writing here and here (primarily michael langdon but also xavier plympton, duncan shepherd, and jim mason)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬:

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐋𝐚��𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧:

✿ class reunions are overrated || outpost!michael

you think class reunions are overrated but a series of events following a certain blonde friend change your mind

✿ it’s called magic, darling || dilf!michael x teacher!reader

all the teachers have a crush on the hot dad with the adorable daughter but he only has his eyes set on one

✿ you’re not my friend

you and michael have to work together on a new project. michael is used to everyone falling at his feet, but he’s in for a rude awakening you could give zero fucks || inspired by therefore i am - billie eilish

✿ how did we get here?

you watch as michael changes into someone he’s not, leaving you questioning your relationship || inspired by decode - paramore

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬:

✿ no body, no crime feat. detective!duncan shepherd || preview here

the good detective comes to you with a mystery he thinks he’s solved, only to discover just how wrong he is || inspired by no body, no crime - taylor swift

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬:

✿ a helping hand || fem!reader, set in the outpost

your meeting with langdon takes an awry turn when he brings up something from your past

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

✿ 1984 x Coven x Apocalypse crossover || fem!reader, implied!poc

the year is 1984, you’re on the road with your cousin and everything seems to be going well. however, it all starts going to shit as soon as you set foot in that camp

chapter 1: the start of a wonderful summer | chapter 2: what donkey? | chapter 3: cece and freddy

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[mutantpowerlist]

Cypher - Doug Ramsey 🇺🇸 & Warlock

Cypher • Ability to understand and decode any language and/or code • Often paired with and host of Warlock

Warlock • Mutant alien being made of the Techno-Organic virus • Superhuman strength, durability, and senses • Techno-Organic shapeshifting and conversion • Energy absorption • Self sustenance • Interstellar flight • Nanite enchancement • Cypher and Warlock sometimes bond together and become "Douglock"

Teams: New Mutants, Hellions, Fallen Angels, Excalibur, X-Terminators, X-Men, Uncanny X-Force, Quiet Council of Krakoa, New Mutants: Krakoa, Swordbearers of Krakoa Relatives: Bei the Blood Moon (Doug's wife), Magus (Warlock's father) First Appearance: Cypher - New Mutants #13 (Nov 1983) Warlock: New Mutants #18 (Apr 1984)

[justforbooks]

Letters by Oliver Sacks

The kaleidoscopic world and polymathic interests of a great neurologist brought to life in his correspondence

In 1960, Oliver Sacks, a 27-year-old University of Oxford graduate, arrived in San Francisco by Greyhound bus. Born in Cricklewood, London, Sacks spent the better part of his 20s training to be a doctor, but came to feel that English academic medicine was stifling and stratified. A “tight and tedious” professional ladder, he thought, was the only one available to aspiring neurologists like him.

A young queer man with a growing interest in motorcycle leather, Sacks had other reasons to leave. The revelation of his sexuality had caused a family rift: his mother felt it made him an “abomination”. And so he looked for escape across the Atlantic. America, for him, was the wide open west of Ansel Adams photographs; California was Steinbeck’s Cannery Row. The new world promised “space, freedom, interstices in which I could live and work”. This is how we meet Oliver Sacks in Letters: as an immigrant undertaking an internship at Mount Zion hospital, the first step in a career on US soil that would span another five decades.

Sacks’s San Francisco years also marked the beginning of his life as a writer. The city wasn’t an arbitrary choice. As he eagerly confessed to a one-time lover, Jenö Vincze, his true motivation for travelling to California was to force a meeting with an artistic idol, the British-turned-Haight Ashbury poet, Thom Gunn. Gunn’s The Sense of Movement (1957) spoke to and stirred Sacks’s predilection for motorbikes. Moreover, it performed on Sacks the kind of private miracle only poetry can: it helped decode “the babble” of his emotional life. “There is a queer, colossally big London Jew called Wolf,” Gunn wrote to his partner in 1961, after first meeting Sacks (who used his middle name, Wolf, as a nom de guerre when frequenting the city’s gay bars, wise to its lycanthropic resonances). “[He] came out to be a doctor here because I live here.” Sacks shared his writing with Gunn, whom he found a ruthless but tender critic, later crediting the poet with first impressing on him that he had real literary talent; a pivotal moment for a man who would go on to publish a dozen books.

“I am not a good correspondent,” Sacks wrote to his parents in 1961, “because I speak and write at people rather than to them.” This is an apt summation of Letters: 52 years of outgoing mail sent (or left unsent) to family, friends, scientists, writers and later, fans and celebrities, a panoply of addressees as diverse as the subjects Sacks writes “at” them about. Unleashed in a self-described “volcanic logorrhoea” that typifies his writing style, these letters variously consider botany, etymology, entomology, geology, neurology, and literature; the tussle between xenophobia and xeniality in Star Trek; the “phantasmagoric-comic unconscious” of actor Robin Williams. Edited by Kate Edgar, who worked as Sacks’s editorial assistant for over 20 years, Letters represents a mere fraction of the total in his archives, which runs to more than 200,000 pages.

Many of the included letters are incomplete, with ellipses denoting gaps whose editorial logic we must take on faith, even when they occasionally appear to interrupt tantalising trains of thought. In a 1984 letter to Lawrence Weschler, for instance, Sacks’s conflicted reflections on strike action in hospitals that might put vulnerable patients at risk feel prematurely curtailed. Despite these excisions, Letters leaves one with the overwhelming impression of a brilliant and vivid mind, a man whose intellectual appetite was vast, and whose professional and creative passions – far from being the self-absorbed obsessions of a pedant – were first and foremost an act of reaching out, the means through which he sought to communicate with others, a “love affair with the world”.

Sacks is an endearing and entertaining prose stylist – inquisitive, often funny, never obtuse – and the organisation of Letters, separated into broadly thematic, chronological chapters with concise editorial introductions, provides narrative momentum. The resulting book is far more engaging than the unwieldy reference text for Sacks specialists it could have been. It might, in fact, serve as a more affecting autobiography than his On the Move (2015), which occasionally slides into sentimentality. Letters is crammed with off-the-cuff profundities, moments of elevated perception that briefly unriddle the more inscrutable aspects of human nature. Here he is on grief, after the passing of his mother in 1972, an emotive state he deems “so unlike depression: it is so filling and real and expanding and uniting and – (it sounds an almost blasphemous word) – nourishing”.

Letters also draws an illuminating line from Sacks’s neurological career to his unlikely emergence as a bestselling author. In the late 60s, having relocated to New York, Sacks treated a group of patients suffering from encephalitis lethargica, also known as “sleeping sickness”, with an experimental drug, L-dopa. This experience informed his second book, Awakenings (1973), which married scientific research with storytelling through case studies of his patients’ lives and their responses to the treatment – a hybrid genre that irritated his colleagues just as it struck a chord with general readers. The literary attention Awakenings received set Sacks on a course to public renown.

“Brevity has never been a quality of mine,” he wrote to Mrs Miller, a physical therapist who helped him regain mobility after a leg injury in 1974. Indeed superabundance – the instinct toward excess – is everywhere in these letters. As a man of 30, dallying with powerlifting, Sacks routinely bragged to his parents about his weight, how much he could lift, the amount he ate – “I love to shake the pavement as I walk, to part crowds like the prow of a ship.” At Mount Zion, special scrubs had to be made to accommodate his bulk, and he found himself in disfavour with his superiors for stealing patients’ food.

But his overconsumption wasn’t always dietary. During the following 10 years or so, Sacks took a prodigious amount of amphetamines and psychotropics – “every dose an overdose” – with one trip producing visions of the “neurological heavens” so intense it inspired him to write his first book, Migraine (1970). By the 80s, following Awakenings and an appearance on The Dick Cavett Show that boosted his profile, pumping iron and popping pills had been replaced by correspondence. “I receive at least fifty or sixty letters and phone-calls a day,” he told his father with the same pride he formerly felt after squatting 575lb, “and, if anything, this number is increasing!”

What was Sacks trying to satiate? His substance abuse, the workaholism that eventually displaced it, speaks of the addict’s need to fill or stuff a void, an effort to forestall the unbearable loneliness that might accompany a moment’s rest. And loneliness certainly runs through these pages. Sacks once felt that his very existence was only made tolerable by rejecting intimacy and becoming “impersonal or supra-personal”; relationships, he said, were a forbidden area for him.

Late in life, he cited internalised homophobia as the driving force behind this isolation, a heart-rending admission, given that he temporarily felt liberated from this oppressive “social matrix” during that short-lived 1965 love affair with Jenö. It wasn’t until 2008, after 30-odd years’ celibacy, that an epistolary meet-cute with the writer Bill Hayes precipitated a loving, intimate companionship, one that would last the remainder of Sacks’s life. It’s a touching if bittersweet moment that arrives towards the end of Letters, the coda to this portrait of a man who, half a century earlier, had travelled across the world hoping to meet a poet who might truly understand him.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[kangaroo1978]

Tagged by @driftingintomysolitude to do my favourite 6 first whatches of the year.

A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night (2014) dir. Ana Lily Amirpour / A Zed & Two Naughts (1985) dir. Peter Greenaway / Decoder (1984) dir. Muscha / Funeral Parade Of Roses (1969) dir. Toshio Matsumoto / The Return Of The Living Dead (1985) dir. Dan O’Bannon / Daisies (1966) dir. Vera Chytilová

Idk who to tag so if anyone seeing this wants to do it they can :)

[weirdlookindog]

Radio Cramps - The Purple Knif Show

"Lux Interior: inter-dimensional, pan-sexual, time-traveling rock & roll alien. And radio host. As Halloween draws nigh we’re revving up for our annual airing of The Purple Knif Show, the one-off radio program hosted by Lux in 1984 deep in the bowels of Hollywood. As master of ceremonies, Lux runs through his personal archives spinning the weird ranging from rockabilly and garage to early punk, campy novelty and exotica. His bag of tricks was the best. So go ahead, “get out your magic decoder rings, boys and girls…” Trick or treat." 🎃

[goryhorroor]

horror around the world: germany (6/10)

decoder (1984) directed by muscha

[door]

In 1984 the first (and still the only) major retrospective of Philpot’s work was organised by Robin Gibson at London’s National Portrait Gallery. The accompanying publication offered as thorough an examination of Philpot’s life and art as was then possible, without mentioning the ‘H’ word. Reading it, one can sense a tension underlying Gibson’s text, in which he discusses Philpot’s ‘fascination with the conflict of morality and sensuality that characterises so many of his later pictures and, one must assume, his personal life’; the artist’s ‘almost passionate friendship’ with his American millionaire patron Robert Allerton; the ‘sensuous good looks and good physique’ of George Bridgman, which ‘seem to have represented an ideal for Philpot’; and his ‘relationship with a young German, Karl Heinz Müller’, all without using the word ‘homosexual’. This first detailed account of Philpot’s personal and professional relationships, in addition to listing the many wealthy socialites and members of the British aristocracy who sat for Philpot during his years of renown as one of his country’s most celebrated portrait painters, was also filled with an enormous cast of men – Vivian Forbes, Oliver Messel, Robert Ross, Philip Sassoon, Siegfried Sassoon, Charles Ricketts, Charles Shannon, Frank Schuster, Roger Quilter, John Gray and Gerald Heard, as well as of course Allerton and Müller – without mentioning the one thing that they all had in common: homosexuality. For gay men at the time, though, who were used to decoding their tribe’s secret histories, this cast list was a discreetly packaged gift.

[weerd1]

Yet another tale of how much I owe Star Trek

So this is something I haven’t talked about in years, but I was feeling nostalgic today and wanted to capture something. I wanted to write down how Star Trek got me through adolescence. 

Now, I’d already begun decoding Trek and it was already untying the knots my conservative upbringing was instilling from a young age. I can talk about “Let That Be Your Last Battlefield” being so on the nose, but 11 year old me NEEDING to see that message about skin color so badly. However, this is not about Trek making me a better person (which it did); this is about Trek helping me learn how to BE a person.  Much more after the jump...

When I was in sixth grade, in about 1984 (I’m 50 now for reference) I got a copy of the old FASA Star Trek role-playing game. Please keep in mind that at this point, there is TOS, TAS, three movies, the novels, and a few comics, but that’s about it. I was consuming and reconsuming them voraciously when I got this game. As a small-for-his-age, nerdy, poor kid living in a trailer, the idea that I could roll a few dice and…BE in Star Trek was a potent elixir. 

Other people around me were growing up. Toys cast aside, actually interacting with other people in nascent romances; I was rushing home to watch GI Joe and Transformers after school. I was playing with Star Wars figures. I was now going through Starfleet Academy, and all it took was a pencil and 2D10. (Sidenote- the FASA RPG system remains one of my favorite RPGs second only to Fantasy Flight Games’ Star Wars system.) It was a way of adding the unknown to fanfiction I was already writing through  my MEGO Trek figures. 

I created a character, a descendant of my own (the biggest fantasy at that time being that I would ever find someone with whom I could start a line of descendants), promoted them to Captain and looking in the “Federation Ship Recognition Manual,” picked out a starship: the NCC-1754 USS Kitty Hawk.

My adventures had begun. Borrowing PLENTY from my heroes, my character was half-Vulcan, and 100% self-insert. To me, this was the POINT of an RPG. It was me, but the version of me I wished I could be. 

As the year went by, I picked up MORE novels and managed to find more TOS episodes (mostly on videodisc at a local place called “Movies to Go”). My sixth grade teacher, Mr. Toresdahl, was a Trekkie and would spend time he probably should have spent convincing me to do homework talking trivia. I would pick up the supplemental bits of the RPG: The Star Trek III Starship Combat Game, the miniatures, modules, reference books.

Probably the most important was when I got “The Romulans” which were certainly my favorite Trek villain.  This was helped along in NO small part by Diane Duane and her novels starting with “My Enemy, My Ally,” and later “The Romulan Way.” Without a whole lot coming out of Paramount for Star Trek at the time, there was a lot of borrowing between the existing media.

The RPG borrowed from the novels. The DC Comics series which started after the film “The Wrath of Khan” borrowed from the RPG.*

There was a congruence of some sort forming, and being as into the RPG as I was, it made me pretty well versed in all the lore. I started finding (and eventually writing for) fanzines at that point. I scoured “Starlog” magazine for Trek news and opinion. I was dead set that I would not rest until I knew all there was to know about Star Trek. 

When I started 7th Grade, there was a shift in the world around me.  Junior High meant multiple classes and even “electives.” Again, the whole physical specter of preteen sexuality was unfolding (and the examples around a young boy in the mid-eighties were seldom the healthiest). It was like I’d landed suddenly after the summer on a whole new planet, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with it all. 

But luckily, I had access to a version of me for whom landing on strange, new worlds was old hat. 

And so, I began what I can only now call LARPing life. I decided I WAS Captain Daomer. I invented an intricate “campaign” for myself, where 23rd Century Romulans (thanks again, Ms. Duane) had come back to Earth’s past to change our history, prevent the Federation from forming.** Just luckily, the Kitty Hawk was monitoring tachyon emissions in a singularity adjacent to the Sol system, and picked up the coming changes to the causality chain. At the last minute a hasty slingshot maneuver around the black hole had taken me and my crew to the time and place of the primary Romulan incursion: Southern Arizona in 1985. Of course.

Now, was this just a protective shell inside my head where I would pretend to be Captain Daomer pretending to be Daniel dealing with the intricacies of social interaction in the 7th grade?  Of COURSE not. I told anyone who would listen the whole story.

For about the next six years. 

I was in a small enough town that my school, Palominas Elementary, was a K-8.  I’d been with the same folks and staff more or less my entire school career. So, when I had to take a bus 30 minutes away to the nearest town to begin attending High School, did I change the story? Did I keep it to myself?  Oh no; if anything I became MORE flamboyant about it. Still a skinny nerd, I wasn’t picked on. Why? Because that kid’s the “Spock Guy,” and why would anyone mess with that Spock Guy?

Something important DID change between my Freshman and Sophomore year though. Star Trek: The Next Generation debuted. So, I had to update my story a bit.  My half-Vulcan character had returned to the 23rd century, continued his career, and in the 24th century, after being promoted to Commodore and as a fleet commander claiming the new Galaxy-Class USS Kitty Hawk as my flagship, had discovered post-Tomed Romulans were up to their old tricks.  That allowed me a real coup at one point, as I had caught through some fan publication early wind of Denise Crosby leaving the show, and “accidentally” dropped my knowledge that Lt. Tasha Yar was going to die before it happened on the TV. Proof of future knowledge! 

My Junior year, I was approached by a fellow student who was writing for the school paper and wanted to interview me.  We spent a couple of class periods talking about my “backstory” and I realized this person knew at least as much—if not more—about Trek than I did. The school paper never did run the interview, but some 35 years later that kid, Will Schwartz (yes, THE Schwartz) remains my best friend. 

I had already started to slow the story down a bit the summer before my Senior year, but also that summer, well, I met a girl. We were hitting it off. But when she mentioned going out with me, the school grapevine was quick to ask, “Are you dating that Spock Guy?” 

And she didn’t run away. Indeed, when she’d once demonstrated she knew all the lyrics to Neil Young’s “After The Gold Rush,” I figured she was a girl I should talk into marrying me. When she accepted I was that Spock guy, because after all, her Dad was a Trekkie and had an AMAZING collection of science fiction paperbacks, well that clinched it for me. Today, Jennifer and I are celebrating our 33rd wedding anniversary. 

So, as I went out into the world after high school, did I never call on Commodore Daomer again?  I can’t say never. Sometimes in a military career when facing danger, or briefing an officer with stars on their shoulders, a mask of stoic Vulcan control would come out of that box in the attic of my brain and get me through. But more directly, Star Trek, and my immersion thereof got me through 7th to 12th grade and gave me a broader world view, a friend for decades, and helped me identify the love of my life.  

Thank you Star Trek for all of that. Thank you creators for the assist. Thank you fellow fans for helping it be such a rich world, and thank you Commodore Daomer for your 24th Century wisdom.

One little coda.  I still watch a lot of Star Trek. Old, new…I don’t like everything that comes out, but I love it all, and that’s something I think some fans struggle with. However, there was a lovely new starship introduced not long ago, and I had to immediately find a fan produced model and make some custom changes.

The Kitty Hawk-A goes boldly... Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning.

*The DC series had some wonderful early issues ALSO written by Diane Duane! Who can forget the Ajir and the Grond? Or McCoy accessing Spock’s katra still lurking within? Wonderful. The fact I’m mutuals here on Tumblr with someone who was such an influence to young me is probably the thing about my life now the kid in the trailer would be most skeptical of. 

**Thanks to Strange New Worlds for canonizing this, by the way.